


fresh like freedom

by sewn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clay Face Masks, F/M, For america, Just Doing My Job, Nonnies Made Me Do It, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 22:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14198694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewn/pseuds/sewn
Summary: The thing was, even though Captain Rogers’ miraculous body was capable of healing from any sort of wound, it still required normal care when it came to basic health and hygiene. Who knew supersoldier skin would flake without moisturizing?





	fresh like freedom

“Lemongrass.”

“Coconut.”

“Pshh. Gary, that’s so out of character. He would never.”

“What, you think Captain America likes _lemongrass_? Did we even have it back in the 40s? I know we had coconuts. It’s in the songs.”

“It’s not about that! It’s… the attitude. Lemongrass is fresh. Like freedom. Fighting spirit.”

“Are you sure it’s not just, you know, your favorite scent?”

Carina smiled as she listened to her coworkers bicker over the choice of body oil for the next round of their patient’s massage. It was her turn to go check in on their heavily NDA-protected patient, and she was gathering the supplies in their shared facilities. The three SHIELD workers -- Gary, Anita, and her -- had by now set up a nice routine, taking turns with different tasks as part of their duty to make sure Captain Rogers would enter the new millennium as healthy as possible. Anita, the nurse of the team, was mostly responsible for nutrition. Gary specialized in muscle care, such as the massage under discussion. Carina’s specialty was hair and skin care.

When she’d got her beauty school diploma, she sure wasn’t expecting to end up working for a top secret spy organization (she was told they weren’t “spies”, but whatever, they totally were). She’d applied for the mysterious job on a whim, landed the interview, and in the blink of an eye ended up here. In an underground bunker, prepping a clay face mask for an unconscious supersoldier.

The thing was, even though Captain Rogers’ miraculous body was capable of healing from any sort of wound, it still required normal care when it came to basic health and hygiene. Who knew supersoldier skin would flake without moisturizing? Besides, as the levels of pollution and airborne microparticles had increased like crazy since the 1940s, his skin would need extra care to acclimatize. It wouldn’t do to give him a rash or an infection.

At least that’s what Carina was told by the agent who hired her. He seemed to know a lot about Captain America, and she trusted his opinion.

Besides, she wasn’t about to complain. Carina hummed a little as she slipped into Steve’s -- sorry, Captain Rogers’ -- room. There was no natural light down here, but the day-light lamp providing naturalistic lighting bounced off of her patient’s hair, giving it a soft golden halo. She was proud of her earlier handiwork, the little wave she’d coiffed up. She couldn’t help but run her fingers through his soft hair as she set up next to his bed. The softness was partly her making -- she knew her conditioners well -- but also partly natural. He’d come out of the ice looking almost untouched, once he’d thawed.

Still, Carina liked to think she’d made a difference in the last couple of weeks they’d been together. (Well, since she’d been his _appointed carer_ , but that sounded so clinical, ugh.) His skin had been patchy and quite dry. At first, she’d moisturized his body properly, from head to toe. With a comatose man of his size, this wasn’t a small task. She wanted to do good work, and methodically worked him over. Carina had to admit the first time she felt a little self-conscious about it, and besides, there was a guard standing in the room with her. After a while, she had mustered up the courage to ask for privacy, explaining that it was distracting to have someone else in the room. After that, she could relax, and her time with Steve became pleasant. Soothing, even. Eventually, she added more specialized treatments, and was set on giving his cheeks the rosy tinge he must have had back in the day. (There were only black-and-white photographs of him, but Carina felt somehow sure of this.)

Now, she’d become quite accustomed to his body. It was almost as familiar to her as her own, and no wonder. There was something extraordinarily intimate about touching a person when they were, sort of, asleep. She’d certainly never dated anyone who she’d feel comfortable handling like this. By now, her hands knew the curve of every one of his abdominal muscles, the bend of his knee, the line of his calf. She loved running her thumb along the arch of his foot -- well, obviously she didn’t _love_ it, but who couldn’t marvel at such a soft delicate place in the body of the strongest man on Earth? If only her history teacher knew where she’d ended up…

The body under her hands twitched, and Carina started a bit. Oh, yes. The face mask.

He sometimes made a little noise, or moved; the first time, it made her alert the agents because she thought he was waking up. He never did, though -- it was natural, SHIELD’s doctor had explained. His body was coming back to life bit by bit, and so were his brain functions. It would take a little while until he was all there.

Until then, Steve had Carina to look after him. She continued humming as she opened the clay jar, and brushed aside a curl of golden hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the inspiration, anon. <3


End file.
